A Second Chance

by Linda Byler

  Now why couldn’t she have enough manners to stay in the background at a time like this? She was the nosiest child.

  “Marie, come here.”

  Reluctantly, Marie tore herself away.

  Neil looked up, and a shadow of annoyance crossed his face as he stepped back and turned toward the gate to the horse’s stall. Marie was in a huff, Edna could tell by the look on her face and the way she walked.

  She gave her clear instructions to care for her younger sister, then turned and walked back to the house.

  Was this the way it would always be?

  She wasn’t always obeyed, and was an annoyance in the life of these children. She was still an unwelcome stand-in for Sarah, and would likely always be. No matter how hard she tried to be a mother, she would always remain a step away. Perhaps that was where the “step” in stepmother came from.

  It was a duty, this mothering of Orva’s children. Yes, she loved Orva, there was no doubt, never a regret for having married him.

  It was the children.

  How many stepmothers before her could identify with the pressing responsibility of loving children who weren’t particularly crazy about having a replacement? The whole thing weighed down on Edna’s shoulders for the hundredth time.

  She took to reading a morning devotional, to praying alone with a plea for help in loving these children. She knew a higher power than what she possessed would have to give her the strength to carry on, knowing she could not do it all alone. Neil was irritated when Carla said Marie was able to keep up in her grade, and no longer came to the house to spend her evenings as a tutor.

  For some reason or other, he blamed Edna, and returned to his sullen ways, which Orva seemed to ignore. Marie brought homework with heavy red marks. “Do Over.” When Edna tried to get Marie to tell her what was going on, she lashed out at her with forceful words of denial, ending in the usual, “You’re not my mother.”

  This time, though, she completely overstepped her boundaries with an emphatic “I hate you.” which left Edna no choice but to punish her with an old-fashioned method of discipline.

  Orva was told, by his unrepentant daughter, who had omitted her outburst against Edna. When Orva gently questioned Edna’s motive in punishing Marie, she told him the reason she had done it, watching his face for signs of support.

  But he shook his head, told her Marie was only struggling with her schoolwork, and why had she let Carla go?

  “She was the one who said Marie was doing well enough to return to school without tutoring. Not me.”

  Orva lifted an eyebrow.

  “Really? Well, that sheds a different light on the subject.”

  “Who told you it was me that let her go?”

  “Neil.”

  There you go, Edna thought. It was a sabotage, engineered by all of them. How was she ever supposed to survive with her neck in the ever-tightening rope?

  She went around in a cloud of self-pity for days on end. She didn’t speak unless someone spoke to her, and then addressed them all in a clipped tone of voice that bore no sunny disposition toward anyone. Neil slunk upstairs and basically disappeared from her life. Marie glared at her at first, then circled warily, steadily becoming more respectful as time went on.

  Orva was exactly the same.

  He kept his distance but became increasingly concerned when Edna drew away from them all. Little Emmylou was the brightest star in Edna’s darkened universe, never fully absorbing the ill feelings.

  Edna did some soul-searching in that time. She decided she was already losing her identity, the zest for life, the quick decision-making, the spoken opinion, it was already falling away like crumbs. She was no longer the independent, outspoken person she had always been.

  But was it a good thing?

  She wasn’t sure. But there was one thing she did know. It was her own fault if she turned into a doormat, with everyone walking all over her, constantly belittling her, saying she was not their mother, and Orva only half agreeing with her when she complained.

  The baby came on a blistering day in August, a sweet, dark-haired little boy named Zachary. Edna fell into the role of motherhood as if she had lived her entire life to be crowned with this glory. She dressed him in the softest, dearest little sleepers and onesies, changed diapers, and marveled at God’s gift.

  She never allowed Orva to take a turn at night, even if he was fussy, saying that was her job, and one she enjoyed.

  She did. The house was quiet, shadowed, the wind sighing its night song through the screened windows, the rest of the household in deep slumber while she nestled on the recliner with her precious miracle, who would always be a wonderful present to an undeserving human like her.

  She thought of Sarah and Neil, alone in the world, the photographs in the attic paying homage to this kind of love. She felt a new connection to Orva’s past since little Zachary came into her life. Was there any bond stronger than the bond between a mother and her first born?

  Love came in waves of emotion, a natural tie that took no effort. It was amazing, an awesome gift straight from a loving God.

  This was her son. Her’s and Orva’s. Their genes ran in this child’s veins, strong and sure, the traits of their own DNA passed down to another generation.

  She had never experienced this miracle with Neil, Marie, or Emmylou. This natural phase had never occurred for her. It was Sarah who had given birth to them, who had spent precious nights caring for her helpless infants. With Neil, it had been like this for Sarah. Perhaps not the same with girls.

  And so Edna learned the difference and stopped being quite so hard on herself about her lack of true feeling for Orva’s children. The more she relaxed and accepted the ever-present irritation that rose unbidden, the less it happened. To accept these stepchildren was like climbing a flight of stairs. You took one step at a time, waited on God’s mercy before you attempted the next step, realizing you might never have the bond you had with children of your own.

  And it was alright.

  God knew her heart, her mind, her soul. He knew how she struggled to accept Neil’s sullen attitude, Marie’s selfishness, and Orva’s lack of discipline for both of them.

  She would not be able to change this natural process. They were his flesh and blood, Marie and Emmylou. Neil was not.

  No matter how hard Orva hid this fact, he wore his lack of true parental love on his sleeve. So easily she saw this in Orva, and he saw the same thing in her where Marie and Emmylou were concerned.

  But it was alright, she told herself over and over. They were doing the best they could, both of them. As time went on, they would all grow closer.

  Wouldn’t they?

  It was on a warm September evening when the family was spending time on the back patio, a scene that would not have occurred before now. They lounged in patio chairs with their feet propped up on the braces of the table legs, glasses of iced tea scattered among plates with corncobs and half-eaten tomato sandwiches.

  Carla and Neil were dating now, and Zachary was already two years old. Orva had put on weight, his neatly trimmed beard showing signs of white and gray along the sides. Edna was round as a mother hen, but it suited her, Orva told her. Motherhood made her face glow and her eyes shine with the happiness of her new role, he said, which Edna took as a compliment.

  Carla was an asset to the mixed family structure, the connecting piece that held them closer, her enthusiasm and sunny disposition a boon to Neil’s tendencies to be surly. He had changed, in spite of trying hard to remain cool and aloof.

  “So, Neil, how many ears of corn was that?” Orva asked, peering around the iced tea pitcher.

  “One, two, three. My word, Neil, eight of them,” he exclaimed.

  Carla giggled, her slender fingers held over her mouth.

  “Two are mine. I snuck two over so no one would know I ate six.”

  “Oh, come on, Carla. You didn’t eat six ears of corn,” Orva said.

  “Sure did! You got a problem wit
h that?”

  Edna laughed and reached over to wipe Zachary’s mouth.

  He was a dark-haired, dark-eyed boy, carrying Edna’s traits, which secretly pleased her immensely. Short and muscular for a two-year-old, he was a barrel of energy, running and climbing, always moving at dizzying speed.

  He loved Neil, which was much of the reason Neil was warming to Edna. He had largely ignored Zachary as an infant, watching him as he tried to sit by himself, but by the time he was crawling, Neil was bending to pick him up, with the promise of taking him to see the bunnies.

  The two years had held a fair share of pain, of family quarrels and hard feelings, with Edna being driven to her knees on numerous occasions, begging God to instill the serenity prayer in all that she had on her plate. A stepmother’s role was unbelievably hard so much of the time, and Orva was not always supportive.

  But on this evening, when the heat of summer lingered, the promise of colorful leaves and crisp days and nights, Edna felt the hope rise within her, a calm assurance that God had helped her so far, and would continue to do just that. He would bless her with strength and wisdom, even if life felt far from perfect.

  We are a family, she thought. A real honest family. Neil has an absent father, none of them have their mother, except Zachary, but does any of that really matter? We have grown together, and our ties are strong. Perhaps not as cemented as a biological one, but a bond nevertheless. She could look back and realize that each month brought some small victory, some gain in the ease with which they co-existed.

  She watched as Neil reached over to scoop up Zachary, laughing as he howled in protest. Carla leaned over to take him, tugging on his leg, telling Zachary that Neil was mean.

  “Komm, Zach. Doppa Komm.”

  Neil caught Carla’s eye and relented. She smiled at him, and he smiled back, his face changed so unbelievably from the surly, unhappy youth of a few years ago. Carla was like an angel, sent from God to give Neil’s life a purpose, and as their relationship grew, his confidence grew along with it, and the smiles became more frequent as time went on. Marie was still the one who seemed to be the thorn of Edna’s existence. Prickly, outspoken, bossy Marie, with Emmylou bouncing happily in her wake, unaware of being the one who always gave in.

  Was it the nature Marie was given, or did she harbor some known thought of never having received her mother’s love?

  Who could know?

  There were, however, signs of Marie’s growth. Marie no longer made smart retorts every time something was asked of her, since Edna simply didn’t tolerate it.

  So there were blessings along the way, small improvements and days when things went smoothly for everyone. Orva’s love was constant, a deep and abiding gift that smoothed everything, taking the sharpest edge off the hurtful incidents.

  Edna watched Orva help Zachary with his chocolate cupcake, his large stubby fingers carefully peeling the paper away from the cake, his eyes intent on what he was doing, with Zachary waiting, his hands clasped behind his back, as if to control the urge to grab it from his father.

  This is my son, she thought.

  She watched Neil slide an arm across Carla’s shoulder, and thought, he is my son, too.

  Neil caught her eye, opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. Suddenly he spoke quickly.

  “Edna, you remember when I was in the hospital?”

  Edna nodded, smiled her encouragement.

  “Remember how you used to knock on my door and say good night? Every evening, no matter what.”

  Edna laughed. “You mean no matter how much you disliked me?”

  “Well, yeah. That, too. But you would always knock and say that. So when I sort of began to realize where I was, and that there were others around me, I wanted to wake up, to let people know I could hear them but I couldn’t. And somehow, I listened for that tapping, the sound I was used to hearing. Actually, I looked forward to that sound.

  “Every time you did that, it seemed as if you weren’t mad at me, no matter how hard I tried to tell myself you should be. I treated you badly those first years. But that knocking is what woke me up.”

  Edna’s face took on all kinds of strange contortions, trying to keep her emotions in check. Carla gazed at Neil with an expression of wonder. Orva caught Edna’s eye, tears welling in his own.

  Edna took a deep breath to steady her voice.

  “Oh Neil, thank you for saying that.”

  The sun cast a golden evening glow on the surrounding trees, the rock garden illuminated like a shrine, her place of refuge in the first difficult years. God’s glory surrounded them, this mixed, imperfect family that would all walk together down the path of life, for better or for worse.

  For sure.

  THE END

  GLOSSARY

  ach—Oh, oh dear, or oh my

  Ausbund—the book of German songs

  bupp or buppa—babies who are fussy, anxious

  “Das bisht glay, gel?”— You are little, right?

  denke—thank you/Denkbar—thankful

  dichly—kerchief

  essa—meal

  fa-schticking—suffocating

  freundshaft—family

  griddlich—unhappy

  grosfeelich—full of yourself

  house-butza—housecleaning, a twice-yearly, thorough house-cleaning.

  maud—maid

  maud schoffing—working as a maid

  ordnung—a set of rules for the community

  rumschpringa—the time of youth

  schliffa—splinter

  shoe lumpa—shoe rag

  ungehorsam—disobedient

  verboten—forbidden

  OTHER BOOKS BY LINDA BYLER

  LIZZIE SEARCHES FOR LOVE SERIES

  SADIE’S MONTANA SERIES

  LANCASTER BURNING SERIES

  HESTER’S HUNT FOR HOME SERIES

  THE DAKOTA SERIES

  CHRISTMAS NOVELLAS

  BUGGY SPOKE SERIES FOR YOUNG READERS

  THE HEALING

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  LINDA BYLER WAS RAISED IN AN AMISH FAMILY AND IS AN ACTIVE member of the Amish church today. Growing up, Linda loved to read and write. In fact, she still does. Linda is well-known within the Amish community as a columnist for a weekly Amish newspaper. She writes all her novels by hand in notebooks.

  Linda is the author of six series of novels, all set among the Amish communities of North America: Lizzie Searches for Love, Sadie’s Montana, Lancaster Burning, Hester’s Hunt for Home, The Dakota Series, and the Buggy Spoke Series for younger readers. Linda has also written six Christmas romances set among the Amish: Mary’s Christmas Goodbye, The Christmas Visitor, The Little Amish Matchmaker, Becky Meets Her Match, A Dog for Christmas, and A Horse for Elsie. Linda has coauthored Lizzie’s Amish Cookbook: Favorite Recipes from Three Generations of Amish Cooks!